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CREEPYPASTA ARCHIVE:The Chopper
He continued down the hallway, the dark-ass hallway. Blood was splattered every fuc*ing where. The floor was a dirty, mold smelling carpet, with the design of an 1800s entrupener. The doors lining the hall way, old and broken. He had fears of any second one breaking open and scaring him to literal death. He heard moaning in a nearby room and the candles all of a sudden went out. He saw a dark shadow walking torwards him at the end of the hallway. The BROCK stepped back, in fear. He grabbed a candle, and aimed it at the shadow, warning it to stop. The shadow did stop, appearing to be haulted. The shadow started running quickly at the BROCK now. The BROCK, standing no chance, ducked down with his arms over his head, and the shadow ran right into him and disappeared. The BROCK looked up, seeing nothing but darkness, with the end of the hallway only feet away..The darkness was against him. It felt as if it was smashing on him, the fear, the lust, the smell of death all around him. He had no idea. He thought it was all fuc*ed up. He had never asked. He knew something was in here, and he planned to find out, ignoring his pride, his lust. The BROCK sucked it up, and started once again down the hall. He had no idea what the shadow was up for. He would most likely find out sooner or later..like always. He was about to turn the corner. Darkness and dust floated, so he was unable to see the other side. He slowly walked onto the cross section. It was either left or right. The left appeared to stop about a few feet, with a door into a room on the left side of the left hall, and a way going right at the end, also with a door at the end. The right hall went to a door, and was darker due to having no candles..the floor creaked continuously, upstairs and down. Any second, scary fucked up shit could just jump out of the wind and fuck him up. he had to be warned, but he had nothing but an unlit candle protecting him. He took the left route, having fears of the right--which he may take later. He turned and started.. It was silent..nothing feeling..only the feeling of death lurking on the walls. He didn't look behind him. He kept going hoping good hopes, and that the bad would disappear. He turned again ignoring the door to the left. At the end, the candle lighted hallway, was another door--this one with a creepier, different image. It glowed with lust. There were doors on each side--the left with a hole in it, and appeared to have an eye in it. He swore something was sitting in side the room, the unknown room, starting at him, watching him.. He continued through the door. He placed his hand slowly on the doorknob and turned it. Right as he about to turn it, a ghostly howl was heard and the candles went out. BROCK, scared to death, quickly busted open the door and slammed it shut. He ran from the door, and soon he ran into a wooden pole, with metal shards broken in it. He looked and appeared to be..somewhere..he felt darkness falling on him. BROCK couldn't see the ceiling, the floor, the walls. Just barely the floor, a hard wood plated floor. What surprised him, this one didn't have blood on it. He sighed with relief, but he knew it wasn't over when he heard a loud bang. The bang came from no where in particular, sounding as it is came from the room, deeper in...the darkness. BROCK continued on, hoping to still be alive as far as he went. The light that was there kept fading further in--until it was completely gone. BROCK was afraid to go on, not knowing what was ahead. Only in a flash of a second later, right in front of him, a bloody white face just appeared and disappeared. As fast as it came. BROCK stepped back, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around fast, with his fists raised, not to see anything but what he had been seeing most of the day. Nothing. Just darkness.. BROCK swallowed all his pride, and ran through the room. He just blasted himself through, luckily not running into a thing. He started feeling all over the wall like a blind person--due to his seeing restrictions. He felt a door knob. and tried to open it. It was like the door knob, was just connected on the wall, not on a door at all. He kept pulling, before feeling something..a bloody..fleshy like hand on the door knob. touch his hand. BROCK jumped back, fucking creeped. He felt around, for anything, and the candles..lining the room, just came on. The room was really nothing. Just empty, some rust stains on the floor, a high moldy ceiling, and multiple doors lining each side of the wall. There was one door, and it was the one he came through to enter the room earlier. BROCK got up and continued pulling the door knob he was. He had to tear the wall open--from pulling the door knob. Dust poured out, not appearing to have been open in a hundred years or more. Mold was there, it looked like a door, but someone blocked it off, probably trying to hide what is behind for other bystanders. He knew that was true, when he saw a bloody, torn up skeleton fall out unto his feet upon tearing the wall. He stepped back, and ignored what his thoughts were tricking him. BROCK started to bust the door open, and did so. The door he broke open, lead into another hallway like earlier, into the mansion. This one looked darker than usual..the walls had a different type of wallpaper, but this one more torn up and old looking. There was a wooden door to the right, which he thought was the same door as he saw on the right cross-section earlier, in the "haunted" fucking hallway of creeps. He ignored it, knowing it most likely took him there, not that he wanted to know anyway, and looked to the left. There appeared to be an old broken stairway, leading somewhere. The darkness once again fell on BROCK. The fear of what is upstairs..lurking around ready to bust out, riddled his mind. He had no flashlight. No candles, the candle he did have, had no light, no flame. The continuous squirms he heard up there, at the top of the stairs, was just terrifying. Unknown what was sitting up there, watching him walk by, watching him think. He knew something was up there, as he heard silent music..piano music--playing in the back of his mind. So little he wondered. BROCK stepped through the broken wall-way, and came upon the stair way. He looked up, the ceiling high with cobwebs lining it, in the shape...of something. He felt much fear, falling on him like an ocean wave he had always enjoyed with his family as a young tot. He knew if he made one wrong move, it would all be over. Ended, his life, in the hands of the unknown lurking ahead. BROCK took his first step slowly onto the first step of the old wooden stairs. There was a silent creak. He continued up higher, making his way. He got to the turn. He could now clearly see the top--once again, a dark hallway..dust..death and silence, and unknown lurking on the hallway ready to kill him. There was blood going up the stairs, in the shape as if someone, a dead body maybe, was dragged up the stairs. This killer lurking up here, must have many secrets. BROCK was sure there was something up there...waiting for him. He felt it in his gut--and his gut is known not to lie. BROCK heard a bang, he heard something crawling up the stairs behind him, each side. BROCK jumped back, looking each way. The walking, lurking noise came closer, unknowingly. BROCK ran up the rest of the stairs, and seen down the continuous long hallway. He did not dare go farther. He didn't dare try to fight back. The darkness was among no shadows, just nothing. BROCK felt like his mind was playing tricks on him. Knocking on his head, he got up, looking for something to use to fight with. Something sharp fierce. The wood fence going along the stairs, looked fragile. Crooked. He grabbed a piece, and tugged on it. Pulling on it, he felt it starting to crack and break off--exactly what he was aiming for. The wood piece violently broke off, and BROCK jumped back, going further into the hall than he yet planned. He looked back and aimed the wood plank ahead, in a fighting position and started making his way. The hall was silent..doors lining it..unknown what lurks behind them...any second, a face can just jump in front of him..fucking his mind up like he had heard in so many stories on the internet before. BROCK used the experience to his advantage. BROCK slowly made his way through the old, rotten smelling hallway. His fear got the most of him, when a small, tiny drop of water landed atop his head. BROCK stepped back and touched his head, thinking something was on it. Soon finding it was nothing, and him dumbfounded, stepped ahead, seeing a small dimmer of light in a room on the left ahead. A shadow, maybe two, lurked along the hallway far ahead. BROCK doesn't believe in ghosts, and spirits, and that kind of shit. Never did, and never will--even if this experience makes the most of him. BROCK noticed a shadow running straight at him. He was stopped, a huge force felt like it smashed into him, and he jumped back, being forced back, almost breaking the wooden stair fence, and falling unto the stairs below again. He didn't, though. BROCK knew the force was just his mind, the fear in the dark playing with him--making him jump back in fear of his own self..his own mind. BROCK swallowed all his pride, and slowly, but quickly, ran ahead. He was aiming for the room with the light glow. He made his way to it, hearing screeches nearby. He stepped from the door for a minute, scared to shit. He used his index finger to push the door open a few feet. The room behind the door, was...a bathroom. An old rotten smelling bathroom. The walls were red and gold, tearing. There was a large cob web hanging across the whole ceiling. The old toilet, mostly white but rusted. No water was in it. Empty, actually clean looking, maybe cleaner than the one at his dad's house which he always feared when his dad was sick. BROCK walked in, the floor wet with water. The shower was only two feet in front of him, and he was afraid to know what was beyond it. He threw the shower curtain, stained with blood, aside. The bath tub was full, splattered with blood every where. There was a dead fleshy, rotting skeletal body lying in it, as if it had been for weeks, maybe months. The smell riddled BROCK's nose. BROCK couldn't stand it, and was going in reverse out of the bathroom. The shelf above the sink next to the toilet popped open, making him even more scared to death. He had no time to think in detail, and stopped himself just out of the hallway. Category:KUZCHIVES Category:CREEPYPASTA ARCHIVE Category:January 19 2013